


Let The Light Shine

by MissSalad



Category: Game of Thrones (Video Game 2014)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-18 20:04:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3582153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissSalad/pseuds/MissSalad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gared and Rodrik are young, best friends, and each other's first kiss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let The Light Shine

            It happened during summer. When the trees were sticky with sap and the creeks full of melted snow. Rodrik had finally caught up to Gared in height after that growth spurt he had last year. They spent their time running through the woods and talking. Rodrik had lots to say. Gared was good at listening.

            "Are ya actually going to marry Elaena?" Gared asked one evening as they lay by the creek. Lord and Lady Forrester had been talking about marriage a lot lately. Rodrik wasn't too happy about all of it.

            "I might. I don't know. Depends on what my parents want. And hers."

            "'Suppose so, but..." Gared rolled onto his side to face Rodrik. "What do you want?" He always knew the good questions. "I don't know." Rodrik said again. "I mean, Elaena is nice, but does nice count when you don't get a choice?" "Suppose not. But ya'd get t'kiss her, wouldn't ya?"

            Gared had his trademark goofy grin on his face, the same one that filled Rodrik with the warmth of a spring day even on the coldest winter nights. He looked away with a shrug. “Maybe, but what if I don’t want to kiss her? Or she doesn’t want to kiss me?”

            “Why wouldn’t she want to kiss you? You’ve kissed lots of girls, so you gotta be good at it.”

            Rodrik propped himself up on an elbow. “I… sort of lied. About kissing all those girls at that summit.” Rodrik didn’t have to look at Gared to know his expression was one of pure surprise. Gared was always so trusting like that.

            “Not even the chef’s daughter?”

            “Not even her.”

            Gared’s laughter was loud and contagious. Rodrik collapsed back onto the grass, wheezing for air and bumping shoulders with Gared. As Gared wiped tears from his warm brown eyes, Rodrik gave him a soft punch on the shoulder.

            “Ow, wha’ was that for?”

            “For laughing. It’s not like you’ve kissed anybody.”

            Gared shrugged nonchalantly. “Maybe not, but at least I didn’ go ‘round sayin’ I kissed hundreds-“

            “I didn’t say hundreds!”

            “Might as well have, for all ya’ bragged about it.”

            “I didn’t brag about anything!” Rodrik threw another weak punch, one that Gared caught with his hand.

            “Oh, right, ya only told me. And the stable boys. And the coal man. And the gardener. And-“

            “All right, all right, so I told a few people, big deal.”

            “And poor Elaena,” Gared shook his head with mock pity. “Set to marry the famous Forrester kisser, an’ he ain’t kissed nobody in his life. What will she think?” His sad little frown melted away at Rodrik’s annoyed eye roll. “At least you can say you know how to hold hands, that’ll be somethin’.”

            Rodrik looked down to see his fist still held in Gared’s hand.

            “Oh, right, sorry.” He pulled his hand away a little reluctantly. Gared’s was so warm compared to his. A Forrester trait, he’d be told. Cold like Ironwood. But Gared was from the same woods as him, and he burned warmer than the noontime sun.

            “I don’t mind it none,” Gared spoke honestly. Gared always spoke honestly. Asher had told him a few times not to put so much faith into a pig farmer’s son, but Rodrik couldn’t help it. Not with how the sunlight got caught in his honey brown hair, or how he looked at you like you spoke the words of the gods themselves, even if you were only telling the time. And now as the sun cast the forest in gold as it dropped lower in the sky, Rodrik could only think the heavens were reflecting the gold of Gared’s heart.

Ethan’s poems must be getting to him.

            They sat watching the creek for a time, the only sound was it’s babbling across smooth stones. Rodrik fidgeted, took a deep breath, then asked, “Would you want to hold hands? For practice, I mean.”

            Gared chuckled, but it was far from malicious.

            “Alright, but I’m bettin’ Elaena’s hands are smaller than mine.” He teased, but he extended his hand to Rodrik all the same.

            “Shut up,” Rodrik laughed. Gared’s hands were rougher and stronger than his, the skin thick and covered in calluses from all the years helping his parents on their farm. What did Rodrik have to show for his time aside from good penmanship and some scrapes from fencing practice? It was silly to think, he knew it, but he couldn’t imagine how such a rough life could leave Gared so happy, with such a kind smile, smiling at him-

            “What you lookin’ at me funny for?”

            “I’m not looking at you funny.”

            “Yes, you are! All dreamy eyed like you gone and won Kings Landing all by yourself.”

            “I think you’re just seeing things,” Rodrik bumped Gared with his shoulder. Gared laughed and gave Rodrik’s hand a gentle squeeze.

            “If you say so, but I don’t think it’s just my eyes that’s making your cheeks look all red.”

            Gared had him there. Rodrik could feel his face growing warm, even if he couldn’t see it for himself.

            “So, what you thinkin’ about? All those girls you haven’ kissed?”

            “Hah, something like that…” Rodrik didn’t meet his eye.

            “Aw, c’mon, you can tell me.” Gared leaned closer, his head tilted curiously.

            “It- it’s pretty boring, nothing you should worry about.”

            “Is this cause Asher’s tellin’ you to keep secrets again?”

            Rodrik froze in shock. Could Gared read minds now? He sincerely hoped not. He turned to look at his friend. “How do you know about that?”

            “Y’still talk in your sleep sometimes,” he said with a shrug

            “Oh.” Rodrik sighed in relief. That was all. So Gared couldn’t hear him thinking about sunlight and kisses and- and he really needed to stop thinking about that to begin with.

            “Asher doesn’t mean anything personal by it, really. He’s just a worrywart, you know.” Rodrik frowned. Asher could be a dunce, he knew that, but it didn’t help at all that Gared knew what was thought of him.

            “I know it. He’s lookin’ out for you. You’re his only big brother after all. ‘Sides, you’re just a big a fretter as he is anyhow,” Gared smiled and lightly poked the worry lines that had appeared on Rodrik’s forehead. Rodrik swatted him away with his free hand.

            “Am not!”

            “Are too!”

            “You shouldn’t argue with a lord, you know. It might come back to bite you,” Rodrik warned, but he was laughing around his mock threat.

            “Lord? I see no lord here. Just my friend and a creek. Or are you telling me creeks can be nobility now?” Gared wrinkled his nose as he laughed, sending his summer freckles into more disarray than they were to begin with.

            “Oh, now you’ve done it!” Rodrik let go of Gared’s hand only to tackle him to the ground. Gared fell back with a surprised ‘oof!’ that quickly melted into more laughter. He didn’t bother fighting back as Rodrik lay triumphantly across his chest.

            “Am I a mighty enough throne for ya, your lordliness?”

            “Hmm,” Rodrik tapped thoughtfully on his chin before poking at Gared’s side, which was followed by more laughter. Gared had always been ticklish. “I think you’ll do just fine.”

            “Oh, good. I told my pa I was goin’ to better places. Nothin’ better than this then, huh?” Gared was smiling up at him, his curly hair tossed back and out of place.

            “Y-yeah…” And Rodrick was thinking about sunshine and poems, about holding hands and not just for practice.

            “You’re face is all red again. You sure you’re not gettin’ a fever or any-“

            Rodrik crashed his lips into Gared’s. It was a quick and wild movement, bumping their noses together and leaving them both a little short on air. As fast as it had happened, Rodrik was moving away, away from Gared, backing up towards the creek.

            “I’m sorry- I shouldn’t have- I’m sorry,” Rodrik turned to run. He was a coward, not a lord, and certainly not a lover.

            “Wait! Wait, hold on!” Gared followed after, reaching out and grabbing hold of his wrist. “Jus’ slow down will ya?”

Rodrik barely dared to glance at him. Gared’s face was just as red as his felt. He looked surprised, but not angry.

            “Sorry,” Rodrik mumbled again.

            “What? S’nothin’ to be sorry for. I mean, a little warning would be nice next time, but that don’t mean you gotta go chasin’ off now.”

             _Next time_. This had to be a dream. Rodrik just stared like an animal caught in a trap. His heart was hammering in his ears. Could Gared hear it?

            “Just… Just don’t go, please. We can talk about this, right? We always talk.” Why did it feel like Gared was the one who was apologizing when Rodrik knew he only had himself blame?

            “Yeah. Yeah, we can talk.” His own voice sounded far away to him. Gared slowly released his wrist, as if he was frightened Rodrik would run. Rodrik wasn’t so sure he wouldn’t. They were both silent for a time, glancing between each other and the creek.

            “So… you kissed me?” Gared spoke first.

            “Yeah.” Rodrik admitted, still floating somewhere between reality and wanting to wake up.

            “Do… do you wanna do it again?”

            “Yeah.”

            “Oh. Okay.”

            “Okay?” Rodrik burst into a fit of nervous laughter. “That’s all you have to say? ‘Okay?’ You’re not mad? You don’t wanna yell at me, hit me, anything?”

            Gared frowned at him. That was a start.

            “Why would I wanna hit you?”

            Oh Gared. Sweet Gared. Rodrik rubbed at his eyes, still trying to convince himself this was real. Gared had edged a few steps closer. His hands were on Rodrik’s shoulders, coaxing them down from the tensed up position they held. His hands were warm and strong. They were real. This was real.

            “Can I try again? Kissing you, I mean,” Rodrik asked, hesitant, searching Gared’s expression. It was so calm and thoughtful; Rodrik might as well have asked the color of the sky, instead of changing their relationship.

            “You’re not gonna bump my nose again, are you?” There was a small red mark forming across the bridge of Gared's nose. Oops.

            “No, no, I mean, I’ll try not to.”

            “Oh. Then I think it’ll be ok. To kiss, I mean.”

            Slowly, carefully, they brought their lips together. It was short, and shy, but their hands were entwined again. Resting his forehead against Gared’s, Rodrik got a close up look at how the golden sunlight dappled across his freckled cheeks, and thought _This is real. Not pretend._


End file.
